Page 32 of A Broken Throne of Bronze

He tilts his head down, close enough that I can feel his warm breath on my neck. It sends chills dancing down my skin, and I can’t help but shudder.

“I know what you were attempting.”

“Do you now?” I stick out my chin in defiance. His words only confirm my suspicions—he thinks he caught me before I made it into the dungeons.

Relief loosens some of the panic constricting my lungs. But only some.

“Yes. It doesn’t take much to put the pieces together.” His eyes burn like hot coals. Still, the way they’re focused on me makes me want to buck my hips against his.

“Arrogant male. You think much too highly of yourself, Your Highness.”

That gets a rise out of him. “Oh, really? We’re going to play this game, then, aren’t we?”

“Game?” I sneer, wrinkling my nose. I lean my head back against the wall, eager to put some distance between us, though I’m unsuccessful. “Unlike you, I’m not here to play games.”

“You just can’t admit defeat, can you?” He lets out a laugh, and it’s a raw, bitter sound. It’s warm on my face. “This is the second time I’ve caught you red-handed. You wouldn’t be sneaking around in a cloak if you just wanted something to eat.” He bares his teeth. “I told you, Little Fawn. You’re not so hard to read.”

That lights a spark in my stomach. My anger simmers and bubbles over, overpowering the hint of desire I feel.

“Fuck you.” I touch my palms to his chest and shove him.

Hard.

Viridian’s eyes flare, though he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. I can see the way he looks at me—with that familiar, self-righteous, noble fae disgust.

Even though he’s doing nothing but stand there, watching me, the mere sight of him only makes my blood boil even more.

“What is it now?” I blurt out, gritting my teeth.

Those amber eyes go cold, though they still burn like embers. “You’re a fool if you think I’m going to just walk away after catching you trying to escape.”

“Don’t even think about following me back to my room,” I demand, not caring to undercut the harshness of my tone. “I can get there perfectly fine on my own.”

To my surprise, he listens.

“Fine.” Holding up his hands in surrender, he backs away from me.

Despite the triumph I feel having won this battle, part of me is disappointed that he doesn’t protest.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Still, he watches me closely, as if I were a wild animal. Tendrils of his hair fall in front of his eyes. “It’s in your best interest that you don’t get into any more trouble tonight.”

The way he says it is so icy, I can practically feel the chill on my skin. It only makes my face hotter, my skin heated by my rage.

But that does little to stifle my craving to grab him by the collar and taste those soft lips.

“Gods-damn you,” I curse.

I hate him. I’m furious with him. I shouldn’t be so attracted to this male.

Frustrated with him, and with myself, I storm to my chambers and slam the door.

Chapter Eight

Istruggle to fall asleep that night. And the next. And the night after that.

The fourth night, as I lie in bed, I know I probably won’t sleep yet again. My mind runs in circles, refusing to cease. I press my eyes closed, snuggling my head into the pillow. Though even when I try to focus on my breathing, all I can do is replay my conversation with Loren over and over again in my mind. Torturing myself with it, like I have every night since.

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